I JUST CANNOT HANDLE THIS ANYMORE
by M.L.Quincy
Summary: What? DRABBLES. What? SONGFICS. What? SHORT STORIES. What? FANGIRLING EVERYWHERE. I cannot handle my excitement. So I put all of my emotions and craziness into writing and awesomeness emerges. READ AND REVIEW.
1. Humorus Nothing : Leo

Leo shook his head.

It hurt. It hurt too much. So, so much...

He felt dizzy, his head like some kind of bubble.

He was alone. He was left here in this hell.

No one cared. Not a single second glance his way.

Jason called him his best friend.

_Lies._

Who knew what else Jason had at Camp Jupiter?

It's not as if they were ever really friends.

A literal figment of his imagination.

Leo Valdez crumpled in on himself, the pain closing in from all sides.

Hide the pain with humor. Hide it all.

He could've laughed.


	2. Safe And Sound : Percabeth

**_Safe and Sound_**

l

Percy's eyes fluttered open. His vision was blurry and his mind was fogged, but he saw a girl sitting on his bed where he lay. She was feeding him buttered popcorn pudding. He could barely comprehend what was going on, but she leaned in and started fervently asking him about some solstice, something stolen—

They were in a race against one another, their chariots fighting for the lead. For a split second they shared a look. Yes, much of it contained a competitive feel, the hunger to win, to do anything for the prize. The rush of the challenge to succeed against the other, the smug feel of presuming triumph. But then, a fraction contained frustration with one another, frustration of their latest argument. However, despite this, the last bit of the emotion in this look had humor, that humor that comes when one challenges one's close friends, of good fun. Even if this humor was nearly non-existent in this situation, it still existed—

Annabeth held up the sky. She kneeled under it, her trembling body looking so small compared to her surroundings. But at this moment, she was alone for the first time since she came here, for, presumably, only a short while. She continued to shake. Partly from pain and struggle, but also longing, wishing. The daughter of Athena had just been betrayed by the guy who she loved most in the world. But as her mind became even more fogged with agony, she came upon obvious realization. Who, who was she? What was she doing, chasing the one who was not worth it, who showed now more than ever how little she meant to him. But she could almost smell a brisk scent of sea salt, as she thought of what was important, as she remembered that music, that dance with the boy, of dizzying magic—

The volcano, the telekheines, the world on fire. Percy stood straight, the lava burning his skin, the pain nearly unbearable. To the point of view of the monsters, the only reason why he was surviving was the blessing of Poseidon. To them, they only saw the simplicities of life, the facts. But what Percy himself didn't even know, was that he had another blessing. The blessing of the daughter of Athena. Passed on by the simple act of a kiss—

Percy writhed in pain. He saw faces, the people he loved, the important ones of his life, whispering to him. Telling him to stay strong. To remember his lifeline, as he drifted uselessly within the River Styx. To continue to exist. He closed his eyes for a moment, and when he opened them again, he saw a memory. No, not a memory. A dream. Of swimming in the lake in Camp Half Blood, he was swimming close to the dock, everything tinged with the green of the water. Up, up on the dock was her. Shaking her head and laughing at him, reaching her hand down, down for him to take, to take as a lifeline, something to keep him from being left here alone—

He held her and he could feel her blood flow over his fingers—

Her fingers brushed the lower part of his back, guided by his, touching the only part of him that was mortal—

Is it over? Did we win? Answered by two lies and a truth, as the soldiers of justice slip away, one by one, before their eyes—

They didn't feel like they had won a war. They felt tired. They felt grieved. Their eyes made contact, and a weak smile on both their parts. They felt relief—

The orange glow lit up the world, as they sat on the bench together, holding blue birthday cupcake—

A time of peace had come for the two of them. And they were happy.

~/~

Annabeth had her memories of him. She had this of his, that of his. She had a prophesy about a boy with a burning shoe. But she didn't have _him. _It was excruciatingly painful, not knowing where he was. Having gone through so much, and now he was gone. Someone had unhinged her life. She was a painting, crooked on the wall—

Percy sat down, head in his hands. He had memories within his grasp, but he couldn't _grasp _them. It was like his entire life was smoke, and he could tell that it was there, yet he couldn't touch it. There was no way to prove that it was at all tangible. All he felt was this sense of knowing. Knowing a person, a girl specifically. But there was no way to prove to himself that she was more than just a dream he remembered—

Percy ground his teeth together and gripped Annabeth's arm a little harder. She looked up at him hopelessly from where she hung, where _they_ hung, together, on the edge of the crevice to Tartarus. When the son of Poseidon turned his head back towards her, their eyes made contact once more, and his words from earlier echoed within them. It's okay. We're together. And then the unspoken promise, to never let go.

~/~

The morning sun, as it filtered through the trees over them, found them asleep, in one another's arms.**_  
_**It wasn't over, and they were as exposed as two could be. Yet they felt safe, there, together.

A smile to be greeted with upon awakening.  
Promises kept, promises broken.

With every kiss—  
With every story—**_  
_**With every embrace—

...

_Just close your eyes_  
_You'll be alright_  
_Come morning light,_  
_You and I'll be safe and sound..._


	3. Pied Piper Piping : Piper

Piper looked into the reflective blade of Katropis.

She sighed.

Who was she fooling?

Everyone, that's who.

She was a liar, a thief-

She manipulated people with mere words.

And it disgusted her.

She was no better than a monster.

Luring others into traps, catching them like flies in her sticky web.

She was like one of those Cyclopes, calling out in the voice's of one's friends.

When she was really an enemy.

They thought she had good intentions.

She was just some kind of selfish deceitful thing.

It was true.

She was truly a Pied Piper.


	4. Sword Shaving : Percabeth

Percy was standing alone in front of the mirror in his bathroom.

He leaned closer to the reflection for a moment, inspecting his usual morning stubble.

The son of Poseidon suddenly pulled himself back and opened the cabinet. He took out a can of shaving cream, filling his palm with the stark smelling foam.

He patted the sides of his face and all around his chin with the stuff, taking his sweet time.

When he was satisfied with this, he picked up a black ballpoint pen from the counter. Quickly he uncapped it, causing it to transform into a three foot long sword.

Percy leaned close to the mirror again, and held the sword up to his face. Slowly he began to scrape the blade along his cheek, carefully so that he wouldn't cut himself.

Without warning, a knock came at the door of the restroom.

"Percy?"

"Annabeth!" Percy dropped Riptide with a loud clatter and a gasp of pain.

"Percy, what's going on-?" She opened the door and took a step inside. "what are you doing?" She looked at Percy's face. "Oh gods, what in Hades happened to you!?"

Percy's face now now had a huge gash on one side. He touched it gingerly, and when he drew his hand away, the tips of his fingers were covered in blood.

"I- um, I-"

"Were you trying to shave your face with your _sword?"_

Percy nodded slowly, not looking at her.

After a moment of stunned silence, Annabeth began to laugh. Percy looked up at her in surprise.

She shook her head, still laughing. The daughter of Athena took him by the neck and lightly kissed him on the lips.

"Oh my gods, Seaweed Brain. Oh my gods."

* * *

**Not as good as I had hoped it would have turned out to be, but this had been a story I had looked forward to writing for ages. **

**Please- REVIEW.**

**~M.**


	5. Historie : Hazel

The daughter of Pluto looked out at her Camp, which was bathed in the bright orange light of the sunset.

She sighed in contentment. Peace had been achieved, even if only for a short time.

She was sitting atop of Pluto's shrine, surrounded by jewels and precious metals galore.

The girl closed her eyes for a second, and her past flashed behind her eyelids.

She opened them again, haunted by her memories.

Haunted by her other life, her giggles, her cries. Her sighs, her sins, her lies.

Hazel covered her mouth with her hand.

Haunted by her own Historie.


	6. Helpfulless : Luke

This kind of night time was not one that he was used to.

This place had so much pollution that it almost looked as if someone had eaten a melted orange popsicle, then smeared the remains across the sky. The stars, they had been scared away; the moon was a sliver plate suspended upon a translucent string. Silhouettes of buildings stood defiantly, glowing, against the horizon.

They had arrived. New York.

Luke gazed at the sight before him. Maybe they _could_ find refuge here. Maybe the satyr was correct. Maybe there could find a time that wouldn't consist of constant running, constant danger.

He sighed, and turned his head, looking back. He was alone in the street.

A few blocks away, Annabeth and Thalia were asleep on one another's shoulders, Grover close beside. They were in an alley, surrounded by the pungent smells of the city.

Luke didn't know what more he could do to help.


End file.
